snorted. “If he ranted at me, I’d smack his nose and then he’d probably rip my intestines right out.”
“But it’s fun when he goes on one of his spiels,” Margery protested.
“Not.” Heather lifted her hand and her smack-a-snout motion sent Margery into giggles.
“Speaking of the cop and the healer”—Emma strummed some introductory chords on her guitar—“what’s going on there?”
All eyes turned to Margery.
“Wow, you’re all so snoopy.”
“Yep.” Vicki pointed to herself and Darcy. “Curious cats.” She motioned to Heather and Breanne. “Nosy pack members.”
Emma raised her hand. “Story-loving bard.”
“Fine.” Margery took a sip of chocolate, stalling for time. Then another sip because it was so very good, like a creamy dessert. “We’re, ummm, together at night.”
“That long ummm means sexy times, right?” Heather waggled her eyebrows.
“Every clever man knows what ummm means.” Vicki nodded.
Laughing, Emma smiled up at an imaginary male. “Hey, Ben, you want to…ummm?”
The rest of them broke up.
“Morning ummms are sure a nice way to start the day,” Darcy murmured.
“There are times, though. Two cahirs after they’ve been in a battle?” Breanne shook her head, saying to her imaginary males, “No, guys. If we ummm again, I won’t be able to walk.”
“I have to admit, I’ve never had such excellent ummming as I get now,” Vicki said. “Calum and Alec are infinitely creative.”
“By the Gods,” Margery muttered. “I’m never going to be able to use that word again.”
“Ummm, what?” Heather asked with a smirk, then turned serious. “Be aware, new wolf, ummming outside of Gatherings can lead to expectations.”
“Expectations?”
“Like getting serious.” Vicki ran her fingertips over her lifemating bracelets—the Daonain equivalent of a wedding ring.
Margery frowned as she sipped her drink. Were Donal and Tynan…serious? They said they loved her, but did they want more than what they had right now? Would they want to mate for life?
She imagined the feel of two lifemating bracelets on her wrist, one from each male.
What would it be like to know she’d be with them forever?
She’d live with them…although she almost was now. They were together every evening, especially when Oliver was out.
They’d make supper together.
Tynan popping a strawberry in her mouth and following with a kiss. Donal sliding past, rubbing against her—such a cat—and purring in her ear as he sneaked in a quick feel. They’d talk about their days, about patients, about criminals, and discuss ways to help the people in town.
The days since they’d said they loved her had been more than joyful.
She put her arms around herself as if to hold the dream in, then went a step further and imagined the future. Imagined cubs crawling on the floor. One would look like Tynan, one like Donal. Maybe even one like her. Would their personalities hold true, too? A stack of blocks falling, and one pup babbling in a toddler-Donal rant. The other with a Tynan-frown before he determinedly started over and was joined by his littermate. Working together.
Until she swooped in to give them mommy hugs.
The dream seemed to snap into place, as if she’d had it forever without realizing it. Because…she loved Donal and Tynan, and they loved her back.
She knew it now. Accepted it. Delighted in it. But where were they going with their lives?
Because…with all her heart, she wanted to be with them forever.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory - waxing gibbous moon
Answering dispatch’s call, Donal drove through the dark night up into the mountains. Although it was past midnight, he hadn’t retired for the night. The empty bed hadn’t appealed—not without Margery and his littermate. He’d agreed the two should go early to help set up the festival grounds, but by the Gods, he hadn’t realized how lonely the house would be.
Especially without Margery. It felt as if she’d always been in their lives, sleeping in their bed, working with him, but really, it’d been less than a complete month.
He’d fallen fast, hadn’t he?
One of these days, they needed to discuss what came next. Somehow.
Ahead, the incline steepened. As he rounded a curve, ominous red flares on the road flagged the accident. His stomach tightened. There must be shifters hurt, or the dispatcher wouldn’t have called him.
By the Gods, shifters shouldn’t be permitted to use cars. Or trucks. Or anything with wheels.
Spotting Alec’s white-faced deputy, Donal pulled over and joined him. “How bad?”
“Nobody’s dead, yet, but it’s ugly. The cars went over the side.” Jenkins swallowed hard. The stink of vomit came from the shoulder where the younger male had been sick. “Alec is down there. Sent me up here to